


Lost Together

by aunt_zelda



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Graduation, Post-Canon, Yuletide Madness, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8995555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: Layla heads north, deep into national parks and protected forests. To find herself, she hopes. To find the answer to what she wants from life. To find out whether it’s college, or heroes, or maybe one of those ecological villains, that she should step towards. She doesn’t expect to find Warren Peace.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_afterlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_afterlight/gifts).



> Yuletide treat for the_afterlight.
> 
> Read your letter and wanted to write you a treat. The idea of Layla and Warren's post-grad life intrigued me, and I wanted to explore that. 
> 
> I hope you like this little fic.

After graduation, Layla drifts. She has dozens of college acceptance letters, a few rejections, and several offers from minor to major superheroes looking for mentees. There’s even three letters from villains, who praise her powerful capabilities and inform her there’s “another way to save the world.”

She defers the college letters, politely declines the hero offers, debates what to do about the villain letters for a week before responding with polite but firm rejections. 

Then Layla heads north, deep into national parks and protected forests. To find herself, she hopes. To find the answer to what she wants from life. To find out whether it’s college, or heroes, or maybe one of those ecological villains, that she should step towards. 

She doesn’t expect to find Warren Peace. 

~*~

Layla finds him in the park’s base camp – a collection of cabins and showers and a general store kept by the park rangers. Warren is spending his summer nearby, fighting forest fires.

“Like Smokey the Bear?” Layla grins.

Warren glares. “Actual hero, turns out. Family title, handed down. Mean right hook if you joke about it.”

Layla’s grin slips off like sap. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Warren shrugs. “Bought me a soda afterwards. Tried to buy me a beer, but I’m not doing anything illegal if I can help it.”

Layla nods. In school, Warren was a straight-edge, never drank or did drugs or even dirty danced at homecoming. He worked afterschool and on weekends, and as far as she heard, he applied to good schools. 

“Why are you out here?” she asks.

“Scholarship. I fight fires in the summer; they halve my tuition.” Warren looks at her curiously. “And why are you out here? 

Layla frowns. “I’m … not sure. I’m trying to figure that out.”

Warren grins. “Don’t go up a tree and chain yourself to it, ok? I’d hate to have to come and pull you down.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Layla gasps in mock outrage, shoving his shoulder lightly. 

Warren smiles. “See you around,” he says, before leaving her by the water spigot. 

~*~

It’s three weeks before they see each other again. Warren is washing soot from his face and arms in one of the outdoor showers, and Layla is restocking her food supplies. 

“Can’t you just grow what you need?” Warren asks. 

“Doesn’t work that way. Drains nutrients from the soil if it’s not the right kind of climate.” Layla gestures to the water. “Besides, there’s a drought.”

“Don’t I know it,” Warren starts to dry off. “Nasty fire fifty miles off. You keeping an eye on those? I hear you’re deep in the woods.”

“Says who?” Layla frowns. 

“The rangers, they keep tabs on everyone out here in the summer,” Warren holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “These fires are tough, even for me. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, or killed, out there all alone.”

Layla nods. “I appreciate the warning. Sorry.” 

“I know you’re a big girl, but fire’s fire. Doesn’t care how much of a badass you are.” Warren sighs, looking down at his hands. “I hate it, sometimes. Everyone else can do great things with their powers. Pull a car off a kid, stop a speeding train, or you, you can make plants grow, restore crops, and hell everyone likes flowers. Me, all I can do is destroy stuff.” 

Layla reaches for him, lays a hand on his arm. “That’s not true. You’re helping now, with your powers. And there’s plants out there that can’t grow without passing through fire first. Fire is more than just destruction. Your power is like anyone’s: what matters is who’s in control.”

He looks up at her, and for a wild moment Layla wonders if he’s going to kiss her. 

“Thanks,” Warren says, glancing over across the campground. “The team’s done, gotta go. See you later?”

“Of course.” Layla waves as Warren piles into the back of a pickup truck with a bunch of other young firefighters. 

~*~

They spend the Fourth of July together, drifting in a canoe out in the middle of the lake while fireworks explode overhead. It reminds Layla of graduation, and Warren of the last time the police came to arrest his dad. 

“Shoulda brought more soda,” Warren grumbles, finishing the last of his. 

“Shoulda brought some beer,” Layla counters, scrounging in the bottom of her bag of chips. “I know you don’t drink, but I like how it feels.”

“That must be funny, seeing you drunk.” Warren smirks. “Do you make plants grow outta weird places in the walls and leave them for people to find in the morning?”

“No … but that’s a great idea!” Layla giggles. 

They lapse into a comfortable silence, punctuated by more fireworks. 

“So, I hear Tarantula reached out to you, a couple months back?” Warren says it casually, but his posture is suddenly tense. 

“Yeah. Her and two other villains. Plenty of heroes, too, offering me apprenticeships.” Layla tilts her head. “How did you hear about that?”

“Word gets … around.” Will shifts uncomfortably. “My dad, he … he thinks I should get into the family business. Well, his family business. Thinks Will and I should become official nemeses. He’s old fashioned, so he thinks someone oughta “corrupt” you, preferably me, to make it all dramatic.” Warren waves his hands in the air. “He’s old school like that.”

Layla puts down her chip bag, appetite gone. “So those letters were villains who just wanted me because … because of my connection to Will?”

“Oh, no, that’s not it! You’re a badass, and they know it. They really want you as an apprentice. The Will stuff is my dad’s weird thing.” Warren shrugs. 

Layla picks up an oar. “I want to go back.”

Warren looks like he wants to object, but he picks up the other oar and helps row the canoe to the dock. 

~*~

Layla stares at the wall of her cabin. It’s an old building, constructed back in the 60s for park rangers who liked to live far from even the modicum of civilization that the base camp brings. She’s found interesting carvings on the rafters, and some truly shocking books tucked away in the loft that reek of skunk weed. 

Still, it’s serviceable. And there’s only four leaks in the roof when the summer rains finally hit, which she can keep up with by placing old cast iron pots at strategic locations in the cabin. 

Layla has three papers tacked up on the cabin wall across from her bunk, with notecards underneath them. Pros and cons, names and numbers, options and strategies, are all inked onto the papers with her neat handwriting. College: in-state, out of state, or off-planet. Heroes: minor vs. major. She even tacked up the names of the villains who made her offers, though in very small cards. 

There’s a knock at her door. 

Layla’s a good three-hour hike from basecamp. She picks up a wooden bat from under her bunk and summons living thorns to wrap around it, and cautiously approaches the door. 

“It’s me!” Warren yells. “I’m gonna drown out here!”

Layla opens the door and Warren tumbles in. She’s wearing a bright yellow rain jacket and looks ridiculous. 

Layla laughs and helps him dry off with towels and throws a blanket at him. “Take off your clothes, you idiot. You’ll catch your death.”

“Not likely.” Warren lights up his right hand. He douses it, and strips, hiding behind the blanket for the most part. 

Layla catches a flash of skin and turns abruptly around, facing her wall of cards. 

“You look like you’re cramming for a final. What are those?” Warren asks. 

“My future.” Layla puts her hands on her hips and glares at the cards. “Time is running out. I have to make a choice.”

Warren steps up beside her, wrapped in the blanket. “I see Tarantula made it onto the list. She’ll be pleased you’re considering her.”

Layla frowns. “I’m not really, just, thought I ought to keep my options open.”

“Smart.” Warren glances at her sideways. “So … you and Stronghold …” 

Layla shrugs. “Long distance. Taking a break. I don’t … that’s one of the cards …” she gestures vaguely at the board. 

“Am I on there?” Warren asks. 

“Do you want to be?” Layla feels like she’s finally rooted herself in place. She’s not drifting in this moment. 

“Well, yeah,” Warren gestures one-handed at his blanket-clad self. “I did just hike like ten miles to ask you.”

That’s true. Layla crosses her arms. “And was this some sort of grand plan? To come here and get shirtless to seduce me?”

“Nah, I don’t play games like that. And you deserve better.” Warren shrugs. “I could just talk you through your options on the wall, if you need a friend’s advice.”

Layla considers that. “Maybe later,” she says, taking a cautious step forward. 

“Or during?” Warren grins.

“Are you planning to leave me that distractible?” Layla counters. 

“Well, I hope not, but if you want boundless confidence you should look elsewhere.” Warren glances Layla up and down. “So … am I the only one getting naked here?”

Layla pulls off her shirt before she can second-guess herself. This isn’t something she needs to take notes on, make a list of pros and cons. This is something she’s wanted, one way or another, since ninth grade. 

The notecards start falling later, dropping down onto Layla’s chest, then Warren’s back, then Warren’s chest and Layla’s back. 

“Don’t go with this guy, he’s a jerk. He helped arrest my dad and made my mom cry,” Warren holds up one of the hero cards. 

Layla reaches up and rips the card up. “Gone.”

“My aunt teaches at this college. Good curriculum, terrible public transit.” 

“Gone,” Layla rips up that card as well. She’s laughing, scattering ripped pieces of paper all over the bunk. Warren starts laughing too. 

When the rain stops, Layla and Warren are tangled up in a pile of blankets and paper scraps. 

Layla’s no closer to figuring out her future, but she feels a lot better about spending her summer in the woods.


End file.
